by Ciana Stone
“Oh, my gosh!” Morgan instinctively reached out. “Emma! I'm so sorry!” In an attempt to help Emma to her feet, Morgan stepped forward, planting her mud-caked shoe firmly between Emma's fat parted knees, leaving a lasting impression on the creamy white skirt.
“I'm sorry!” She grabbed the large woman's arm to haul her to her feet. “Are you okay?”
Emma straightened her skirt and looked down in disgust at the muddy footprint, “I am perfectly fine, Mrs. Alexander.” She said, and then added in an accusatory tone, “Merely a bit shaken is all. It is not often one finds oneself knocked to the floor while performing one's job.”
Morgan did feel bad about bouncing the old bat on her caboose, but it was an accident, and she’d apologized. “Good, then if you'll excuse me.” She motioned toward the door to indicate that Emma should leave.
Emma, however, didn't budge. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Alexander?” She inquired in a solicitous but bossy tone.
“Nothing, thank you. I need to set up Juan's computer.” Morgan stepped around Emma to the desk.
For a woman so large, Emma moved very quickly. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Alexander, but Mr. Ramirez did not leave any instructions on this matter.” She blocked Morgan’s way. “I’ll have to call and clear this through him first.”
A knot of frustration formed in Morgan's stomach. It was going to be harder than she had anticipated fulfilling her promise to Cord. “No!” she said, more sharply than she intended.
At the suspicious look that crossed Emma's heavily rouged face, she softened her voice and continued in a rush. “I mean, no. There's really no need to bother Juan with this now. I'm sure he and Cord have already discussed it, and even if they haven't, Cord will get up with him later.”
She stepped over to the door. “So, if you'll just excuse me, Emma, I'll do what I need to and then I'll be out of your way.”
Morgan placed her left hand on its edge and used her right hand in a sweeping gesture for Emma to leave. It took only a moment for her to see that her ploy wasn’t working. Emma remained rooted in place, giving Morgan a stubborn frown.
Emma had worked for Juan before he came to the States. She was his secretary in Italy when he worked for Vincon. When the parent company opened a branch in the United States and Juan was made the president of the American company, Emma came with him to oversee the office. Then, when the parent company sold the American division, Juan took his proceeds from the sale of his stock and invested in Alexander Enterprises as a partner. Emma came as part of the package.
Emma had made it quite clear from the first day that she didn’t like the fact that Mr. Ramirez wasn’t the president of Alexander Enterprises. Nor had she ever tried to hide the fact she disapproved of Cord being the senior partner. Over the years, she had commented that as far as she was concerned Cord was entirely unsuited to head the firm. His friendly manner with employees and the casual way he dressed, was utterly unacceptable. And once she had even seen him come in wearing shorts, of all things.
“Mr. Ramirez, on the other hand,” she would boast. “Is a consummate professional. His hair is always perfectly groomed; cut short and neat, just as it should be. His thin mustache is always trimmed neatly above his lips, and he dresses like a professional man should, three-piece suits, starched shirts, and polished leather shoes.”
As Juan's executive secretary, Emma saw herself as the foundation that supported the company. She ran his end of things shipshape, everything in its proper place, things done correctly. With the personality of Attila the Hun, she was less than popular around the office. She had no authority but didn’t let that stop her from acting as if she ran the place. Normally her orders were ignored and her reprimands usually met by some insulting gesture. Nevertheless, Emma ruled, in her mind at least, and she wasn’t about to let Morgan do anything without her knowledge and approval.
“Mrs. Alexander,” she intoned loftily, “I should not have to remind you that I am Mr. Ramirez’s executive secretary, and as such, it is my responsibility to oversee everything that transpires in this office. Now, since it is my duty to –”
“That's enough!” Morgan cut in. She was tired of the hassle, and she was tired of Emma. She didn't like her to begin with, and Emma's highhanded attitude was coming at the wrong time. As a rule, Morgan would let it slide, but she’d already had an awful day, and it wasn't even noon. She didn't hold back the venom in her voice as she commanded. “Let me remind you, Emma, that mine is the hand that signs your paycheck. And if you want to continue receiving those checks, you'll get out of my way. And I mean now!”
Puffing like an old locomotive, Emma bustled out of the office. No sooner had she cleared the opening Morgan slammed the door shut behind her.
Completely aggravated, Morgan stalked over to Juan's computer, turned it on, and logged in using Cord's password. In seconds, she had set the system to wait for his call and was ready to leave.
As she marched by Emma's desk, she cut the woman an annoyed look. So much for a little favor.
Odessa, Texas
Cord checked with the desk clerk to see if he had any messages. “Nothing so far sir,” the clerk politely replied. “Welcome back, Mr. Alexander.”
“Thanks.” Cord always stayed at the same hotel when he had to be at the facility in Andrews County. Odessa was the closest city to the facility with decent places to stay and eat. With a parting smile at the desk clerk, he turned and hurried through the lobby. As hungry as he was, he wanted a shower more. Just as he rounded the corner to his hallway, he stopped dead in his tracks. At the end of the hall was a sight that would cause most red-blooded males to pant and drool. Pointed right at him was the back of a long pair of knockout legs.
Cord couldn’t help but smile as his eyes worked their way up. Long shapely legs encased in slightly shimmering stockings rose up from black high–heeled shoes to a firm round rear. His eyes wandered over the luscious scenery presenting itself before him.
The woman was bent forward, apparently retrieving her keycard from the floor. Bending over had caused her short tight skirt to rise and present an appealing view of her backside. Beneath the sheer hosiery lay a flimsy thin strap of light pink lace, secluded in the cleft of her ass, covering only enough to leave a tiny bit to the imagination.
The woman straightened and turned to unlock her door. As the side of her face became visible Cord's mind shot back in time to a bar in California.
He and Juan were sitting in a hotel bar. They’d just closed a deal with a company to supply the hardware they needed to put together the nuclear waste tracking system. Cord was excited. This was a major contract, and the fact that he’d been sought after to do it, and the price of the project had his ego pumped. For the first time, he felt like one of the big boys of business.
Juan sat across from him with his back to the bar when Cord first noticed the shapely legs – the same pair of legs he now saw in the hallway. He watched the woman saunter to the bar and seat herself on one of the high stools. The long legs crossed, causing the short tight skirt to rise higher on her thighs.
Cord didn't feel ashamed or guilty about enjoying the view. Like all men, he appreciated the sight of a beautiful woman. Juan was excitedly going over the day's events, drinking far faster than normal. As he paused to take a breath, he looked around the bar.
“Where's the waiter. I need another drink.”
“We got our drinks at the bar,” Cord reminded him.
Juan scowled. He disliked what he considered the American concept of self–service.
Cord smiled and took the empty glass. “I'll get it.”
Giving Juan a pat on the shoulder as he passed, Cord walked over to the bar and waited for the bartender to notice him. The striking woman looked over at him and smiled. Cord returned the smile then gave his attention to the bartender who called out that he would be with Cord in a moment.
“Excuse me, but I have to tell you that you have absolutely beautiful eyes,” the woman said.
�
�Thanks.” Cord was flattered at the compliment.
“Are you here on business?”
“Yes, you?”
“Unfortunately,” she sighed. “There was a time I thought it would be so exciting and glamorous to be able to have a job that allowed me to travel. Now I realize it's not all it's cracked up to be.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Well, you know.” She smiled and angled slightly on her stool. The motion caused the short skirt to rise even higher. “It just gets so lonely.”
Cord had a hard time believing that a woman with her looks was ever lonely. He started to say as much. That was when he noticed the way she looked at him. It took him off guard but was a tremendous boost to his ego
The woman smiled and extended her hand. “I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself, my name's Cassie.”
“Cord Alexander.” He took her hand. “A pleasure.”
“My thoughts exactly.” She gave him a seductive smile and ran her hand from his, up his arm to his shoulder. “In fact, why don't we get out of here and explore it – thoroughly.”
Cord shook his head to dispel the memories. Cassie was opening the door to her room. He started to raise his hand and call out to her, but she had already disappeared behind the door.
It's probably just as well. He moved to the door of his room, unlocked it, and entered. He tossed his briefcase on the bed and headed directly for the shower, with thoughts of Cassie still in his mind.
Cotton Creek, Texas
Morgan glanced down at her watch as she parked outside the garage: 2:00 p.m. She was running out of fuel. The events of the past few days were starting to catch up with her. She looked around as she walked up the back steps and could see no sign of Samuels.
At the door, she looked down and noticed her muddy shoes. Before entering the house, she removed her shoes and socks. Once inside she made a beeline for the phone.
“You have no messages.” The recorded voice announced through the receiver.
Disappointed that Cord hadn’t called she cradled the phone and headed for the bathroom to take a shower. She picked up the cordless phone from the nightstand, turned off the voicemail and took the phone with her to the bathroom. She hoped he would call. She really needed to hear his voice. Most of all she needed to hear him reassure her that everything would be okay, that her dog would be fine and hear again that he didn’t know any tall, auburn-haired woman.
A beautiful woman, at that! She thought as she stripped off her filthy clothes and tossed them into the clothes hamper. As she tried to work the elastic hair tie from her tangled, dirty hair, she wondered just how old the woman was. Thirty-two, Thirty-five? Oh well, what difference does it make? Cord doesn’t know her, and even if he did, he doesn’t go for redheads.
Finally free of the elastic hair tie, she placed the phone within easy reach on the edge of the Jacuzzi and then reached into the shower to turn on the water. Just then, the phone rang.
Morgan picked it up before the first ring was finished. “Hello?”
“Morgan? Sam here. Just checking to make sure you still want me to head to Dallas tomorrow for that bull.”
It was not the call she’d hoped for, but hearing Sam brought her attention back to something normal, like the ranch and that was welcome. “Yes, definitely. Use the ranch card or write them a check, whichever they want. And you’re sure you don’t mind making the trip?”
“Not at all. Sally’s gonna ride with me.”
“Then why don’t the two of you leave today and spend a night in a good hotel along the way and treat yourself to a dinner out on me?”
“We couldn’t do that.”
“Sure you could. And you will. Tell Luther he’s in charge ‘till you get back and hit the road.”
“Well, when you put it like that, what the heck.”
“That’s the attitude.” Morgan smiled. “Be safe, Sam. See you when you get back.”
“You bet’cha and thanks, Morgan.”
“It’s the least I can do. See you soon.”
As she turned to put the phone on the vanity, Morgan caught sight of her reflection in the full–length mirror. “Ugh!” she grimaced at the sight of herself. “You definitely need a shower.”
Without further delay, she turned on the water and stepped under the steaming downpour. The conversation with Sam had restored some degree of normalcy, and that made her feel better. Now if only Cord would call.
Recap
Well, things have been a series of unfortunate events for Morgan of late, and from the sound of it, that could be what's in store for Cord. The question is... did Cord have a thing with Cassie, or was Cassie just playing Morgan.
And what, exactly, does Victor have in mind for Cord? What will it take to satisfy his revenge?
More will be revealed in Ruthless, coming in March 2019
Releasing Feb. 11, 2019
an excerpt
Chapter One — New Year 2019
The volume of the music decreased, and Mathias called out. “Happy New Year!”
Russell clapped along with everyone else as fireworks lit the sky over the lake, the pops and booms competing with the cheers and happy voices around him. This New Year's Eve was far different from any other he'd experienced.
A woman he was in partnership with to build butterfly houses and apiaries, Reese Quinn, had just exchanged vows with a Navy Seal assigned to the Clear Creek Training Center outside the town of Cotton Creek, in Cray County Texas.
Russell would guess that at least half the residents of Cotton Creek were there, along with all the instructors and support staff from the training center. The bride and groom said their “I do's” before midnight and now were having their first dance as a married couple.
The dance floor was crowded with people, and it was something of a surprise to find himself on the sidelines, watching. He'd typically have a date for any social function. There were always women available for such things. This, however, was an event he'd chosen to attend alone.
“Happy New Year, Mr. Walker.”
The female voice behind him had him rising from his seat and turning. Dr. Naomie Taylor smiled up at him. She held a glass of champagne in each hand. “Join me?”
“Why not?” Russell accepted the glass, touched its rim against hers and then drank. “Happy New Year, Naomie.”
She put one hand on a hip and struck a sassy pose. “Why Russell Walker, is that the best you can do?”
He recognized the tease in her tone and responded in kind. “Well, I don't know. What would you have me do, Dr. Taylor?”
“Ask a gal who has no date to dance?”
“That I can do.”
He offered his hand, and she placed hers in it. Once on the dance floor, he swung her around. Naomie smiled up at him, and Russell took a selfish moment to admire her beauty and revel in the feel of her in his arms.
“Wasn't it a beautiful wedding?” she asked and sighed. “Just perfect.”
“Yes, it was. And now that it's done, will you be moving to Heritage?” Naomie had accepted an offer from him to head up an ambitious quarter horse breeding program. Her family in Kentucky, raised Thoroughbreds and thanks to her had one of the most successful breeding programs in the world.
Naomie had put off making the move to Heritage, his ranch, until things were set with the production facility for the artificial intelligent bees they planned to produce and use as an adjunct to the apiaries and butterfly farms. Since she'd helped in the design of the AI bees, she'd volunteered to oversee the set-up of the facility.
“Really? Business? Now?” She looked up at him with a small pout.
“Important business.” He felt the need to interject their business relationship into any encounter. As much for himself as for her.
“Fine. I have about one more week to complete the set up at the SynthBee production facility, and then I'll be ready to turn my mind to the breeding program. Have you looked at the portfolio of potential horses I want to evaluate at an
d consider for the program?”
“I have. It's a fairly extensive list. Why so many?”
“Because most won't pan out and we won't accept anything less than the best.” She paused to give him a piercing look he'd come to recognize as her issuing a challenge. “Correct?”
“Correct.” He agreed and added. “It appears you're going to be spending a good bit of my money.”
“It'll be worth it.”
“It better be.”
“Have a little faith, Mr. Walker. Have I let you down yet?”
That earned a laugh from him. “Naomie, you've done a lot since I've known you. Infuriated, astonished, impressed, confused, amused, cajoled and even convinced me to take part in things I'd never normally agree to but to date, no you haven't let me down.”
“Well, there you go.” She looked around for a moment then up at him. “In the spirit of honesty between partners, I have to tell you that I smoked a big fatty with Lula just before the ceremony and had two glasses of champagne, so I'm a little toasted.”
“And you're telling me this why?”
“So you know I'm not in charge of my faculties tonight, and you can't hold this against me.”
“Hold what—?”
Before he could get the rest of the words out, she'd snaked an arm up to take hold of the back of his neck. Naomie plastered herself against him, pulled him down to meet her lips and planted a kiss on him.
The thought entered his mind that he should end it. Entered and then left. She'd given herself an excuse for her actions. He didn't have and wouldn't try to invent one. He'd wondered about this almost since the day they met, and that was quite a few months ago.
Now he knew. It was every bit as powerful as he'd imagined, and he'd imagined quite a lot. Russell wasn't a man prone to being surprised. He attributed that to age and life experience. Naomie Taylor had been nothing but surprises, and that was, perhaps, one of the most appealing things about her.